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“So let me get this straight...” Andre’s irritating, squeaky ass voice made me cringe. “You’re not only three months late on the child support you agreed to pay for our son, but now you want me to send you rent money?” I grabbed the bridge of my nose, hating that I even had to stoop so low as to beg him, of all people, for money.
“I’m going to send it back with interest, plus the money I owe you for Cameron. I just...look, I don’t need to explain it to you. Will you send me the money or not?” I sat in the parking lot of Pastries & Brew, one of my favorite coffee shops, trying not to lose my shit on Andre.
“Yo, you’re selfish as fuck! Cameron has been asking, nonstop, to talk to you and you can’t answer the damn phone for him. But you can find a way to hit my line when you need something, huh? Guess shit ain’t as sweet as you claim it is.”
“Andre—”
“You don’t wanna be a mother? Our son is all of a sudden too much of a burden? Cool, but know this. You ain’t never gon’ be shit.”
“Look, I didn’t call you to argue.” Truth was, I was seriously regretting ringing this dude’s phone. Seriously regretting that he was the one I was stuck to co-parent a child with. “I’d have your back if you needed it, but when I need something, it’s fuck me, right?
“You damn right, it’s fuck you. You treat our son like he’s a mistake. I can handle you fucking me over, but my seed? A real mother doesn’t look at her child as defective because he’s not perfect. You’re a real fucked up broad, Amy. But you gon’ get yours.”
Andre had a way of bringing out the worst in me. Truth was, about the only time we got along back in the day was when we were fucking.
“You know what, how about fuck you too, Andre!” I snapped. “And I’m a bad mother, but you’re the same dude who tricked me into getting pregnant in the first place? Man, you can miss me with that shit!”
I couldn’t take too much more of Andre’s shit, so I ended our call how I did most times—hanging up in his ear while he went on about some shit I really didn’t care to hear about. Tyrone made his choice on being a full-time parent when he got so caught up in becoming a father that he tossed the condom aside and slid right back in raw. Did I love my son? Yeah, but did I feel cheated? Damn right. Deep in my heart, I felt like Cameron’s Down Syndrome was punishment for Andre trapping me into motherhood—his punishment. He wanted a kid so badly, then he could raise him. End of discussion.
Trying to pull myself together, I kept slipping deeper into my thoughts. Try as I might, I couldn’t seem to get my life together so I could finally lay my past to rest. Just as I was racking my brain for another way to pay my rent, sharp taps against my window startled me from my thoughts. Seeing who it was, I pulled my keys from the ignition and stepped out.
“Well, look who it is. The way you dropped off the face of the earth, I was starting to wonder if you were still breathing, mami!” Ricardo’s energy was on ten, as usual, as he sipped a fancy frappuccino and opened his arms for a hug.
I hugged his neck and then stepped back to get a good look at him, squinting my eyes against the sun’s beam before shifting my shades from my head to my face.
“Has that snake hired my replacement yet?” I’d been dying to find out if my old position was still open.
“Sure did, and get this, it’s a man!” Ricardo giggled. “A manly man with an ass so fat, it jiggles just right when he walks. Mija, I can’t even concentrate, okay?”
“That fine, huh?” I grinned.
“So fine, I’m tempted to turn his ass out.”
It was more than a little surprising to hear that my replacement was of the male species. A guy was far from Max’s type...or was it?
“In other news, you know the big engagement party is tomorrow evening, right?” Though I didn’t know officially, I’d seen the ugly ass dress from Raven’s fitting on Taryn’s IG page. Hearing the formal acknowledgement now set my wheels spinning, bringing a plan together before I’d even had a chance to hash the details out.
“Really now...”
“Really, and it’s the talk of the town. Everyone from the office was invited. No expense spared, of course. It’s downtown, at the Reverie. Exclusive guest list and all that good shit. Too bad you can’t crash...that would be epic!”
“Let me be your plus one and I’ll see what I can do.” A mischievous smirk formed as I got too excited about my options for disturbing their fake ass peace and happiness.
“I love you, mami, but not enough to be the next one out the door behind you.” Ricardo frowned, shaking off the thought of being broke and unemployed. “Anyhoo, good to know you’re still in the land of the living. Thought you might’ve ended up like Sonia for a minute...”
“Alive and well...but hey, let me get out of this hot ass sun. Call me later? I need all the tea from tomorrow.”
Blowing a kiss as he made his departure, he promised he’d call, but I know he was just being polite. Ricardo had been a workplace friend, nothing more, and I was cool with that. Honestly, I didn’t have much use for him anyway if he couldn’t even sneak me into this party.
Pushing my encounter with Ricardo to the back of my mind, I headed into the coffee shop and spotted Havana seated in a corner, arms neatly folded on the table as she waited for me. Seeing her looking the picture of perfect poise, I decided right then and there that I was crashing that damn party—with Havana in tow. I couldn’t wait to wipe that smug ass smile off Bougie Barbie’s face.
“Hey there, I grabbed you an Irish Creme latte, I hope that’s okay?” She motioned for me to fill the seat across from her, that same bright smile taking the spotlight.
Slipping into the seat, I took a quick sip of the latte, which was literally heaven to my tastebuds. A quick glance at Havana confirmed she had a mean shoe game! I had no idea of the label, but those snakeskin pumps had me salivating more than the latte.
“Thanks so much for meeting me, I began, “You know...after the meeting the other day, I’ve been doing some thinking and since you said I could call...”
“Like I said before, call me anytime. Helping others...helps me. It’s my duty. So what’s up, how are you feeling today?
“I’m alright,” I began, giving her the synopsis of my current dilemma, painting it with a bit of victimization in my favor. “So yeah, the party...it’s a great opportunity to network, considering I’m currently jobless...but the alcohol...I know my triggers...” I feigned a deep scowl of distress, sneaking a peek at Havana to see if my act was convincing.
“What about taking a friend? Someone to help keep you accountable?”
she suggested.
“I would do that if I had any. As I shared the other night, I’m new to town so I haven’t exactly had much time to get out and socialize.” I shrugged. “Maybe I should just skip it.” I pouted, going in for the kill.
“Say no more. You have me. I could stand to get out of the house anyway. What time are we stepping out?”
“Darn, I’m not sure, I forgot the invitation at home.” I rummaged around in my purse, searching for the invitation that didn’t exist.
“No worries. Text me the time and venue, I’d love to be there for moral support.”
“That, I can do. Havana, I really appreciate you for doing this.”
“Happy to help. Soooo, what shall I wear? What’s the theme of the party?”
***
The next night, I stood in the floor-length mirror giving myself one last inspection. I may have looked like money, but I was full-on clearance rack at TJ Maxx. Through it all, I did my best to ignore my looming notice to vacate, which meant I’d need a new place to lay my head come first of the month.
Satisfied I look good enough to make the initial cut of visual inspection, confirming I had the right pedigree to be in attendance tonight, I applied a fresh coat of a Fenty Stunna Bold shade and headed down to my car. I wanted to arrive before Havana to make sure everything went as planned. Max absolutely could not see her until I was ready to make the reintroduction.
Fighting little to no traffic on my way, I arrived at The Reverie and was instantly awestruck. I’d only ever seen photos of the venue, which did the place no justice at all. I slowly followed the line of cars, taking notice of the valet attendants who were hard at work tending vehicles.
“Welcome to The Reverie,” one of the attendants greeted as we exchanged keys for a valet ticket. My upbeat strut stalled as I took notice of the guest line accumulating at a check-in podium. It looked as though they were checking names against a list and instantly, a pang of unease coursed over me.
“Welcome ma’am, may I have your name?” the blond woman probed, tablet in hand as I stepped up to the podium. Just then, I spied Havana being helped out of her town car in the valet area.
“Deborah Beckett,” I whispered, keeping my voice low so prying ears wouldn’t hear and offer contradiction. Blondie tapped her tablet, searching for the name, and I said a silent prayer that Deborah’s workaholic ass was on the list.
“You look absolutely stunning, chica.” Havana greeted, approaching as I stood on pins and needles, eyeing the blonde at work on the tablet.
“Is there a problem?” I frowned, my unease bubbling to the surface.
“No problem at all, Mrs. Beckett..oh, there you are. My apologies, technology makes us wait sometimes. You two may go right on in, and enjoy your evening.” She gave a warm smile before turning her attention to the next party in line.
Whew, it worked!
Once inside, I was even more captivated by the grandiose architecture and decor. Sparkling chandeliers and italian marble floors stole my breath in the foyer. As we were ushered into the main ballroom, I felt several eyes ogling us, likely shocked to see me in attendance. Havana turned more than a few heads on her own, easily commanding the attention of men and women alike. She was drop-dead gorgeous in a black mermaid-cut gown dress with a swarovski-accented bodice and plunging neckline. Capped with matching swarovski accessories with her auburn tresses tucked into a sleek bun, Havana could have easily passed as the woman we were here to honor this evening.
“Is this a party or a wedding?” Havana whispered as we made our way about the ballroom. Some of the attendees were seated at the tables chatting while most others milled about the room.
In two seconds flat, I’d spotted Max, deep in conversation with a couple I didn’t recognize. As though he sensed my presence, he looked my way and locked gazes. When he noticed who my ‘plus one’ was, his face went ashen, making me wonder if he’d released his bladder at the shock of seeing Havana’s fine ass by my side. Just as he went to tear his gaze away, Havana appeared at his side. When she followed his gaze to me, her face stiffened as she took off in our direction, determined stride bringing us all face to face just a short time later.
Showtime!